


highway

by beanpod



Series: bingo fills 2020 [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanpod/pseuds/beanpod
Summary: “This is what happens when you bet against Mako,” Yancy says as he arrives with a new round of drinks. “I tried to warn you, kid.”Raleigh sputters, “You saidGo for it.”“TheIf you darewasheavilyimplied,” Yancy shrugs.
Relationships: Raleigh Becket/Chuck Hansen
Series: bingo fills 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874800
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62
Collections: Pacific Rim Bingo 2020





	highway

**Author's Note:**

> for the 'tattoos' square at the pacific rim bingo 2020
> 
> i_tried.jpg

Raleigh only agrees to it because he’s a man of his word, damn it, and the _Please-don’t-let-me-down_ look on Mako’s face is too much. Newt giggles behind his pint and Raleigh narrows his eyes at him, because this is all Newt’s fault in the first place.

“Can I choose what I get or is that up to you two, too,” he grumbles, and Mako steeples her fingers on top of the table, a thoughtful look on her face that Newt tries to copy but fails spectacularly at.

It’s probably the beer.

“We’ll let you choose. But we gotta approve it.” She smiles primly at him when he rolls his eyes and groans. “Oh, come on, Raleigh, do it for the team.”

He points a finger at her, “This is _not_ ‘doing it for the team’.”

Newt guffaws behind his glass. “Oh, god, Raleigh, man—you suck _so hard_ at pool. _So hard_.”

Raleigh glares. “I don’t think _getting a tattoo_ is something I gotta do just to prove how _not adequate_ at it I am.” The broken bar window proves it enough for him, really. They’re all lucky Tendo lets them get away with stuff.

“This is what happens when you bet against Mako,” Yancy says as he arrives with a new round of drinks. “I tried to warn you, kid.”

Raleigh sputters, “You said _Go for it_.”

“The _if you dare_ was _heavily_ implied,” Yancy shrugs.

“I hate all of you,” Raleigh announces, grabbing his glass and pulling it closer.

Mako blows him a kiss before tipping her glass at him.

“ _Please_ ,” Newt begs after a moment, “ _please_ get a tramp-stamp. Raleigh, I will _pay you_.”

Raleigh’s not that short on money, thanks.

-

It’s Newt who hooks Raleigh up at the tattoo shop he goes to almost monthly.

He texts Raleigh the details, _chuck can see u this sat at 11am don’t embarrass me becket_ , and that’s how he shows up at 11am on the dot at _Striker Eureka Tattoo_ to get basically stabbed with a needle repeatedly.

There’s a dark haired girl sitting behind a high counter. She smiles up at him, “Hey, welcome. What can we do for you today?”

“I, uh, I’ve got an appointment.” Raleigh isn’t nervous. He isn’t.

“Name, please,” the girl asks, clicking on her computer.

“Raleigh Becket.”

Her face lights up. “Oh, you’re Newton’s friend.”

Raleigh nods. “Yeah, sadly.”

“Ah, come on, he’s a great guy,” she laughs. “I’m Amara, nice to meet you.” She stretches a hand over the counter and Raleigh reaches over to shake it. Her grip’s firm.

“You, too,” Raleigh answers.

“Oi, Mar, who the hell keeps stealing my goddamn cookies from the shelve?”

The guy who walks up to the counter from the back of the shop is wearing a dark green shirt over impressive shoulders and jeans so tight they give Raleigh cotton mouth.

“Who’re you,” Nice Shoulders asks when he spots Raleigh, eyes narrowed a little.

“Hello, Chuck, this is Raleigh, he’s your eleven-fifteen appointment,” Amara says in a fake preppy voice, still clicking away at her computer. “Raleigh, this is Chuck, he’ll be doing you today.”

“Hilarious,” Chuck retorts drily while Raleigh tries not to choke on air, “this is why we keep you around, Mar, that sense of humor.”

“Yep, my managing skills and ability to ignore your bullshit have nothing to do with it,” Amara replies flatly.

“So you’re Chuck the tattoo guy?” Raleigh asks, clearing his throat a little. Why’s his mouth dry, this is preposterous.

Chuck leans against the corner, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not my full name, no, but I’ll take it.”

“He’s a friend of Newton’s,” Amara supplies.

“Ah,” Chuck nods, “yeah, he called.” He smirks. “He says you lost a bet.”

“He says a lot of things,” Raleigh huffs.

“That he does,” Chuck agrees. He raps his fingers on the counter, fixes Raleigh with a look that’s almost… considering. “Alright, then, Ray, what can I do for you today.”

“You don’t have any tattoos,” Raleigh says, very smartly, letting the _Ray_ go, for some reason. It’s true, though, Chuck’s arms, from the sleeves down at least, are bare.

It makes Chuck pause, his eyes widening a little. They’re very blue. Not that Raleigh’s like, staring, he’s just stating a fact.

“Not where you can see, darlin’,” Chuck says with a tiny smile, hip cocked to the side. (Amara snorts behind the counter but they both ignore her.) “Is that what you want? Something big and visible?”

“No,” Raleigh answers honestly, “not really.”

“Alright, let’s talk details. Follow me.”

There are three stations that Raleigh can see. Chuck’s is the furthest one, closest to the back of the shop. There’s drawn and painted art hanging on his side of the wall, all of it varying in size and type, a few news clips. Some pics of people Chuck doesn’t know, but most of them got both Chuck and Amara, so probably the other artists.

“Take a seat,” Chuck says, waving to the bench in front of his stool. Raleigh sits on it and they hold gazes for two seconds (yes, Raleigh counts them, sshh) before Chuck sighs. “Look, I’ll be real, Newt’s a great pal, he’s a regular here and I was willing to meet you ‘cause he’s cool, but bet tattoos are a serious deal. Last thing I need is you leaving this shop literally scarred for life, y’know.”

“Yeah.” At least the guy’s decent about it. Raleigh appreciates that. And now that they’re closer and face to face, Raleigh can spot a tattoo on the inside of Chuck’s forearm. “So you do have one.”

Chuck looks down at his arm and nods, huffing a laugh. He spreads his arm, lets Raleigh see. It’s a grinning bulldog. “Yeah. Old childhood dog. I’m a sentimental guy, Ray, what can you do.”

Raleigh’s decided to roll with the _Ray_. “So what do you recommend as a first tattoo.”

“It really depends on what you want to permanently have with you, mate,” Chuck shrugs a shoulder. “Never put much thought into getting ink before, huh?”

Raleigh has, actually. It’s a pretty silly thing, though, but he’d liked it back when he’d graduated college, kind of like a homage or something. He hadn’t gone through with it for a number of reasons, the first one being time.

“You know what a drawing compass is?” he asks Chuck, who’s been studying him quietly.

Chuck nods. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Raleigh nods back.

Chuck narrows his eyes a little but smiles nonetheless. “Let me sketch you something, then. Give me fifteen minutes.” He stands up, pats Raleigh’s shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back. Ask Amara if you need something—water, snacks, whatever, maybe you can find out who keeps stealing my goddamn cookies.”

-

Raleigh’s flipping through his texts (ignoring Mako’s _do you need me to go over there and hold your hand_ ) when Chuck walks back in and settles at his stool.

He hands Raleigh a stencil, “Here, take a look.”

It’s a nice sketch of a drawing compass, clean lines and a bit of shading. It’s roughly the size of Raleigh’s forearm, if a bit smaller.

“I like it,” he tells Chuck honestly. “I really like it.”

The tips of Chuck’s ears blush pink and it’s the cutest thing Raleigh has seen, possibly ever. “Alright, where do you want it?” Raleigh raises both eyebrows and Chuck rolls his eyes at him. “Spare me, mate. Every innuendo you think you’ve heard, this shop has had it worse.”

Raleigh chuckles. He hands the stencil back. “Inside of my left forearm.”

Chuck nods, almost approving. “Alrighty, then, let’s do this.”

-

Chuck’s explains the process as he goes, holds the razor up for Raleigh like he’s never seen one and goes on about a five-minute explanation on why shaving the area is important. He then proceeds to tell him all about the different needles he has and all the effects he can make and asks if Raleigh has any preference about it. (He doesn’t.)

Raleigh watches him and tries not to smile too much and only winces the once when Chuck shows him the ink gun.

“You ready, Rals?” he asks, grin almost too wide for his face.

“It’s _Raleigh_ , you know.” Raleigh squints. “C’mon, Chuckles, let’s do this.”

Chuck laughs outright but doesn’t tell Raleigh off. He maneuvers Raleigh around for a bit until he’s lying down and his arm is propped up on another, tinier stool.

“Okay, I’ll start on a tiny line so you know what it feels like, yeah? Try not to jerk too hard,” Chuck tells him, and then the gun starts purring.

As far as pain goes, it’s not that bad. Raleigh’s definitely had worse. Chuck pulls back from Raleigh’s wrist and glances up at him, “All good?”

He nods, “Yeah, go ahead.”

Chuck gets chatty as he goes. Raleigh suspects it’s mostly to keep his mind off the constant stabbing, but he appreciates the effort. So they talk about mundane things like football (which Raleigh knows next to nothing about, and it turns out neither does Chuck) and then they talk jobs.

He asks Chuck how long he’s been a tattoo artist and Chuck makes a considering noise. “Almost ten years now? Started right after school back in Sydney. Almost gave my old man a heart attack but my mom talked him into it. I gave him his first tattoo, too.”

“How long have you lived here?” Raleigh asks then.

“Three years. I met Chau—he’s the owner—in a conference and he offered me a job here in LA. Told myself, why not, and here we are.”

The pain increases as Chuck works towards the inside of his elbow. Raleigh breathes in deeply and wonders when was the last time he puked. He really doesn’t wanna puke on Chuck, he’s really handsome.

“How about you? Always been a LA kid?” Chuck asks, wiping excess ink—and blood, though Raleigh doesn’t wanna think about it too much—away. He throws in a “Sorry, mate, I know,” when Raleigh winces at the sensitive spots.

“Grew up in Alaska, actually. Moved out for college, and believe it or not I wanted to move back when I graduated, but then I got a good job, and now here we are,” he smirks at Chuck, who just rolls his eyes.

“Don’t cheek at me, I have a needle, _Raaah_ leigh, and I’m good with it,” he says.

Raleigh snorts, “No fucking shit.”

They’re quiet for a while—except for the gun—and then Chuck asks, “So, uh, no girlfriend here to hold your hand? Or to tell you how dumb bet tattoos are and making a ruckus at my front door?” His voice is laced with something Raleigh can’t quite pin down.

He tries to tamp down the silly smile he wants to give Chuck. It works, mostly, because of the pain. “Nope,” he says, stretching the ‘p’ obnoxiously, much like Yancy does. “No girlfriend. Or boyfriend. I don’t think I’d be alright with someone making a big deal out of getting a tattoo.”

Chuck huffs a laugh through his nose. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Newt and Hermann have broken up twice in this very bench, Rals. The _things_ I’ve seen, Jesus.”

“That’s just regular _Newt-and-Hermann_ , though,” Raleigh says with a wince; Chuck’s already at the softest skin of his elbow and it hurts like a goddamn bitch. “Damn, that hurts.”

“I know,” Chuck says, sounding almost kind there but missing by, like, half a mile. “The price of beauty. Almost done, now. Breathe in through your nose, count to five, out through your mouth.”

It at least gives Raleigh something to do. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding onto the edge of the bench with his other hand until the gun clicks off. His fingers feel cramped and sweaty.

Chuck says, “We’re done. Let me clean it up so you can take a look.” He swabs something that smells pretty nice and then it’s there, it’s _fucking there_ , real before Raleigh’s eyes. It’s a weird feeling, because coming into this Raleigh hadn’t been sure what to expect, but this…it goes beyond what he could’ve thought of.

“What d’you think?” Chuck asks.

“It’s amazing,” Raleigh grins. “Man, it’s _really_ good.”

Chuck absolutely fucking preens. “Glad you like it, mate.” He pats Raleigh’s knee—he swears the touch lingers a little. “Let’s wrap up that up and talk after care.” He smirks. “After care is very important, _Rah_ leigh.”

Raleigh rolls his eyes, “Newt sent me the pamphlet.”

“Newt should have that thing tattooed already,” Chuck retorts.

“Oh, don’t tempt him, man, he just might.”

“Come on, sit up, I gotta bend your arm a little.” Chuck grabs his supplies and then goes on, “You can take off the wrap tomorrow morning, noon-ish? Try to stay clear of alcohol for 24 hours—I’d say 48 but I know who you hang out with. Don’t go getting into any pools, either; if you shower be careful around that area, don’t scrub it, though. If you’re allergic to any kinda food, stay clear of it for a couple days.

Raleigh sits up as Chuck wraps up his arm. They’re suddenly sort of very close. Close enough Raleigh can see a tiny smattering of freckles under Chuck’s left eye. He’s really good looking. Raleigh’s been trying not to think about it too much but he’s failing, he knows, and the way Chuck keeps blushing is not helping.

Mako would tell him to go for it. Yancy would’ve started making lewd jokes the second Chuck came into view. There’s no saying with Newt. And Raleigh’s a little rusty, actually, he hasn’t gone on a date in years, and he’s never been one for hook-ups.

“Say, Rals,” Chuck says, smacking Raleigh right off his train of thought, “What do you think about getting a beer tonight?”

Raleigh blinks. “I thought you said no alcohol.”

Chuck rolls his eyes, “ _A_ beer is fine; a whole case isn’t.”

“Oh,” Raleigh answers, very smartly. “Right.”

“Sort of expecting a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ here, mate,” Chuck mutters. They’re very close indeed, Raleigh doesn’t have to try to hard to listen.

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, I’d like to. Get _a_ beer. With you.”

Chuck grins, and when he lets go of Raleigh’s wrapped arm, his fingers do linger a little on the back of Raleigh’s hand. “Excellent.”

**Author's Note:**

> the tattoo looks something like [this](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dd/0f/8f/dd0f8f23f376c91856772dc055289964.jpg); it's not mentioned but raleigh is an engineer 
> 
> a psa: if you get a tattoo pls listen to your artist
> 
> thank you for reading, drop a kudo & comment if you like ♥


End file.
